


Perception

by rainbowblue13



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: AU, Everyone is normal AU, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowblue13/pseuds/rainbowblue13
Summary: Jacob Portman is sent to a place where people are peculiar, but not in the way he thinks. [DISCONTINUED]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Family Inside the Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104401) by [latinsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/latinsong/pseuds/latinsong). 



> OKAY SO I've been writing this for a while and I haven't finished yet, but I'll upload chapters as regularly as possible. Although I research them quite a bit, I do not have any mental health issues, and all that I write is based on my second-hand experience and internet research. If I step out of line, or something is contradicting/controversial, please let me know in the comments! Constructive criticism is important to me as a writer. And very special thanks to my friend Ren who has helped me investigate and edit this fic! Bless your face <3
> 
> This fic idea is inspired by latinsong's "The Family Inside the Home" fic, I highly recommend it!

On the bright, sunny day that was September 3rd, Miss Alma Lefay Peregrine was the one who escorted Jacob Portman to his new home. It had been a very small adjusting period for everyone, especially for the boy, so the headmistress was determined to make him as comfortable as possible in her institution. Smiling kindly at him, she opened the main door and gestured inside.

"Come along now, the children will be delighted to meet you." 

He looked up at her with something akin to fear, and looked inside, not moving from his spot.

"It's quite alright, Mister Portman, the house doesn't bite." she encouraged.

Swallowing, Jacob took one tentative step into the house, paused, and then took another. Miss Peregrine waited patiently until he advanced far enough for her to enter and gently shut the door behind her. Even the light sound of the door clicking shut made him flinch, but he pulled his attention elsewhere, as if the noise came from somewhere further in the house.

"Are you feeling alright, Mister Portman?" she inquired, her expression etched with a hint of concern. Oh dear, it would be unfortunate if he became ill when just settling in.

There was a beat of silence when neither said anything, but before Miss Peregrine could ask him again Jacob spoke up, "Yeah it's fine. There aren't any hollows here."

"That's good to hear." she said, smiling at him. She had to tread lightly with him before they began their sessions.The headmistress clapped her hands together, something she regretted when she saw the boy flinch violently. "So! Mr. Portman, if you'll allow me, I'd like to give you a tour of the home so you can start to settle in. Is that alright?"

He nodded, still looking scared, but once the prospect of a monster ambushing him was put at bay, his relief was visible.

She smiled at him again. "Good. Let us not waste another minute then! I know the children are thrilled to meet you. Come along, now." Miss Peregrine began to walk into the house, her hands held together at her back.

"Wuh– wait, what about my stuff? It's still in the car—"

"Oh worry not dear, Bronwyn will fetch your things. Incredibly strong, that girl. In any case, we're dilly-dallying. Come!" Miss Peregrine was a very patient person, but she could not stand for the waste of time, especially when there was so much to show. She forged on into the rest of the house, and this time Jacob followed.

As she gave brief but luxurious introductions to each room of the house, the headmistress glanced at the American every now and then. He was sixteen, but having a stranger's house thrust at him so suddenly made him seem much younger than that; it was like a child being shown the different toys of the classroom on the the first day of school when he didn't want to leave his house in the first place, terrified of what this new world would mean for him. The expression on his face made Miss Peregrine even more resolute to help him in every way she could.

When they got to the second floor where the children's rooms were, she strolled up to the last door in the hallway. "This, Mr. Portman," she said, "Will be your new roo—"

"Could— uh," Jacob spoke up and then hesitated when he realized he had interrupted Miss Peregrine mid-sentence. "Sorry but could I um, guh- go outside? Just for a minute, I promise."

"Your apology is accepted. And worry not, Mr. Portman, there'll be plenty of time for that, all in it's own time." she waved him off, but took a moment of pause when she saw his expression. It had transformed from one of simple nervousness to one bordering on panic. "However," she drawled, "If you are in need to use the _restroom_ for whatever purposes you require, I will not object."

Jacob breathed out in relief with some, though not all, of his panic edging away. "Thank you, Miss Peregrine." Before the she could say another word, he was briskly walking away, back through the hall they had come from. He paused for a moment, then turned back around to face the headmistress. "Um, where—"

"Through the foyer, first door on the left."

He gave her a quick smile of gratitude and rushed down the stairs, stomping on the steps as he went.

"Tread lightly, now!" she called out to him, but halfway through her sentence he had already reached the landing. Sighing, Miss Peregrine took a moment to compose herself. Though it was what most of the children hated, she couldn't help but feel pity for the young man. He just looked so _lost_ , it reminded her of some of the children from the old shelter. She was only a youngling at that time, no older than Mr. Portman himself, but she remembered clearly the haunted looks on their faces; young, pudgy and foreign faces that had been through war. It only made sense, she thought to herself, that they would be so similar. After all, the young boy was fighting a war as well. It just so happened that war was in his mind.

The headmistress straightened herself, quickly exiting her thoughts as she heard footsteps trudging back upstairs. Poor thing must be dreading the entire affair, though she couldn't blame him. However, it turned out that it wasn't Jacob coming upstairs— it was Bronwyn, ludging two suitcases as if they were filled with air rather than heaps of clothes and other belongings.

"Ah, Miss Bruntley, thank you very much for taking care of our new resident's belongings." The girl simply gave her an earnest grin as she walked through the door Miss Peregrine had just opened to her, leading to Jacob's new room. Just as the girl set one suitcase on each of the twin beds, the headmistress turned to see the dark-haired boy walk back down the hallway.

"Ah, what a pleasant coincidence! Mister Portman, this is Miss Bruntley."

"Name's Bronwyn, nice to meet you!" she held out her hand and he took it, his arm being jolted up and down violently as she shook it.

"It's so great seeing a new face 'round here," she continued, still grinning. "We don't get visitors much but we got a lovely bunch here, you'll see!" 

Jacob tried to reply but still had his arm deadlocked, being shaken vigorously.

"Miss Bruntley, delicate please."

Looking flustered, she quickly let go of his hand and blushed in embarassment, her smile momentarily fading. "Sorry, Miss Peregrine."

She wasn't satisifed with that and glanced at Jacob pointedly, who was still rubbing his wrist gently. "Sorry, Mister Portman," Bronwyn mumbled nervously. "I just got a tad bit too excited."

He stared at her in awe, however, his mouth agape. "No no, it's fine. You're _crazy_ strong, by the way." 

" _Ahem_ , Mister, we do not tolerate that language here. Strictly forbidden."

Jacob looked at her in confusion for a couple of moments before his eyes widened and his mouth formed a neat circle. " _Oh_. Right. The 'C' word." He suddenly looked quite uncomfortable before looking up at the headmistress with a glint of defiance. "I'm not, by the way. I'm not crazy."

Miss Peregrine smiled at him. "Which is _precisely_ why we don't use that language. Now, you have the last vacant room in the home, so luckily for you, Mister Portman, you have the freedom to choose which bed you're getting. Miss Bruntley even took that into consideration." she said, gesturing to the two beds. "It was very kind of her to bring your luggage here."

Jacob got the hint and turned around to thank Bronwyn before realizing she had already left. Miss Peregrine sighed when she saw the empty hallway. "Oh well, that does seem like her. She just loves tending to the little ones, barely lets them out of her sight, I tell you!" She sighed again, pulling out a pocket watch from the folds of her dress. "Either way, this seems to conclude our tour of the house. You can unpack your belongings now or leave that for later and meet the other children. Dinner will be in an hour, so the decision is up to you. After all, your time is your own." She then gave him a small smile as she walked out into the hallway. "And Mister Portman?" she added, 

 

"Welcome." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob tries to adjust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE ARE ALREADY PEOPLE COMMENTING AND LIKING THIS AAAAH
> 
> Also I swear the other kids will come into play soon, I've decided to keep each chapter to one point of view, maybe two tops. As always, let me know what you think!

The door closed behind Miss Peregrine and it was only then that Jacob let himself lie in the bed and process everything that was happening.

Guility, he admitted to not paying much attention to the tour, which was probably obvious to the headmistress when he forgot where the bathroom was literally two minutes after they'd passed it. _I hope there's more than one bathroom in this place_ , he thought suddenly.

He tilted his head to the right to look at the rest of the room he was going to live in. He wasn't an idiot– this was supposedly a "temporary adjustment", as his parents called it, but Jacob knew better. This place, for at least the two years until he turned eighteen, would be his "home".

He couldn't complain too much, he thought. The place was beautiful and from what he did pay attention to during the tour, so was the house. His parents could have just as easily dumped him in a rat infested, cushion-covered cell with a straightjacket. 

And despite caring deeply about his parents, and knowing that they were just acting out of fear and concern for his well-being, Jacob couldn't help but resent them for shipping him away to some godforsaken dingy island in Wales.  _Oh, he just went on a trip to Europe to clear his head a little._ He could already imagine his mother replying something along those lines when people asked about Jacob's sudden absence.

It was infuriating.

Everyone thought he was insane. Everyone thought they knew what's best for him. Everyone pretended they  _understood._  All of the psychiatrists and doctors in the world couldn't fix him, couldn't stop him from seeing those things because they were actually  _there_. No place was safe, he came to find. Dr. Golan even turned out to be a wight himself (he had those white eyes; pupiless, staring voids with no souls left,  don't trust them don't trust them don't trust-) He would wake up in a cold sweat everynight due to nightmares of feeling long, slimy tongues coiling around him to the point where he couldn't breathe and he felt as if his ribs were being crushed. He would yell for it to stop, screaming out at the top of his broken lungs; it wouldn't even feel like he was speaking English anymore, but he was gonna die and  _Grandpa Portman where are you please help me please_ —

He didn't know when he started crying.

As soon as he felt the wetness on his cheeks he wiped them away furiously, scratching at his face in the process. He needed to focus. He had a mission.

With a shuddering breath, Jacob analyzed his situation. He hadn't sensed any hollowghast nearby– not _yet_ – because if he had, his first instinct would have been to bolt out of and away from Miss Peregrine's home. Not that this hadn't been his intention all along, but he had gotten distracted by checking for hollows. He just had to hope an opportunity to leave would come soon. It wouldn't take long, he assumed. What kind of loonybin only has one staff member?

First things first, he had to scout the area. Make sure none of the other kids were gonma rat him out before his escape. Jacob's instinct told him Miss Peregrine wasn't a wight at least, but he couldn't be sure, and even if she wasn't a wight she could still be dangerous. He'd ask the others if they'd ever seen her wear contacts anyway, just in case.

  
_I probably look like a mess,_  Jacob realized. He got up to assess the damage at the sole window in the room to check his reflection, but instead he was distracted by the sight outside. Out in the backyard (with a beautiful kept garden, he noted), there were clumps of kids playing, scattered throughout out the green expanse. A boy sat on a swing while a girl– Bronwyn, he realized– pushed him forwards, but never shoving too hard. Another boy in incredibly formal clothes sat next to him, not swinging on the swing at all. There was a girl with messy, almost bush-like hair tending to the plants, and the boy kneeling next to her must've been helping, he assumed. 

Time to actually talk to them.

He walked out into the hallway, his bags still packed (he either needed them ready for a quick escape or it wouldn't matter in the event he discarded them) before remembering he was going to clean up to look more presentable. The other kids wouldn't volunteer information so willingly, Jacob reasoned, if he looked like a complete whack. He could be very self-conscious at times and embarrassing first impressions weren't anywhere near his favorite things. Mind set, he headed straight towards the bathroom, hopefully before anyone saw him.

In the case of Jacob Portman, as he already knew, things didn't seem to go his way very often.

In his hurry he stumbled face front into someone and he bagan to backtrack, apologizing immediately. "Oh, uh, sorry, I wasn't..."  _paying attention,_  he meant to finish, but his words slurred to a stop when he saw the look on the person's face.

The girl– he must've been around his age– was blonde haired and round faced and, well, _pretty,_  he thought articulately. But she looked at him with a mixture of emotions: from shocked to angry to sad. Or is it melancholic? Either way, he felt that none listed above were emotions he wanted people feeling when he first met them, so he was concerned– and also terrified because the girl was now scowling at him intensely. She stormed off towards the hall behind him and slammed the door of the room she entered shut.

Well that was odd.

Jacob trudged on towards the bathroom and once inside, he gave himself one good look in the face which he instantly regretted.

His eyes were bloodshoot and rimmed red at the eyelids, both from the crying and his battle with lack of sleep. This was also present in his darker-than-usual eyebags, reaching a light purple hue fit for a cheap eyeshadow brand. _Ri_ c _h kid with constant nightmares battling exhaustion._ It had a ring to it.

That was just skimming the surface though: his hair was tousled, his nostrils irritated, his cheeks streaked with rough red scratches from earlier. He wasn't winning any beauty contests soon. In fact, looking at himself like that, Jacob understood for a moment why everyone, including his parents, thought he'd lost it. This bedraggled teenager was a far cry from his school photo from just last year.

 

  
_This,_  he thought,  _is what it looks like to know._  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma isn't sure what to think.

 It was him. Oh my god it was  _him._

_No, you idiot. He left a long time ago._

But he looks _just_ like Abe! It  _has_ to be him!

_Doppelganger! A relative! A coincidence! There_ has _to be an explanation._

Back and forth, her mind went.

She just saw Abe. Emma just saw her ~~ex~~   bloody boyfriend _._  Or at least, she rationalized, the spitting image of him.

How on  _earth_ can two people look so similar to one another without being related? Did he have a secret twin? No, he had said he didn't have any family left  ~~but he lied about a lot of things~~. Maybe one had survived on an off chance but, even though he barely talked about it– Emma knew it was a touchy subject– it seemed really unlikely that anyone survived. Unlikely, but not impossible. She considered it before realizing how cliché and ridiculous the idea of a secret/evil twin was.

As her thoughts raged, she paced back and forth in her and Fiona's room. It had only a single cactus as plant-decoration, since Fiona preferred to conduct her gardening outside and she cared too much about her plants to have them in the same room as the pyromaniac. The cactus, which Emma eventually named Pick, was a sole exception for two reasons. 1) It was easy enough to take care of even inside and 2) it was a test to see how long she could stand to not set something on fire out of morbid curiosity of how it melts or burns. She'd actually grown a bit attached to the damn thing, though Emma didn't care to admit it. Who likes saying that their rebound after a messy teen breakup was an arid desertic plant?

Speaking of.

Even though her heart fluttered and hoped, she knew it couldn't have been Abe. It had to be that new arrival Miss Peregrine had mentioned. When they stumbled into each other in the hallway, there wasn't a flicker of recognition from the boy. It had hurt more than anything else, more even than when Abe had left.

Emma began to list all of the reasons why she was justified in disliking this boy, despite him technically not doing anything wrong. She was coming up short, naturally, since they'd interacted for a grand total of 10 seconds, but she was still angry, though at what she didn't know. That boy. Abe. The universe. Herself.

She was infuriated by the whole situation and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to set something– no, to set _everything_ on fire and watch it burn, smoke curling up in the sky, heat on her face as her eyes gleamed in the orange light.

_No, stop it stop it stop it._  She took a shaky breath and stormed out of her room, damn the Abe-looking boy in the hall. Emma would just glare at him again if she ran into him. Halfway down the stairs, however, she was pulled to a stop by a familiar voice. 

"Miss Bloom!"

She sighed in exhasperation, looking down at Miss Peregrine. The headmistress held her beloved pocket watch in one hand and the other was placed on her hip as she glared at Emma from the bottom of the stairwell. "How many times have I told you to please not stomp on the stairs! This house is to be respected by its inhabitants at all times." Before the teen could get a word in edgewise, the other glanced at her watch and beckoned her down. "Come now, lets not dawdle. I want everyone to meet Mr. Portman."

As Emma made her way down the stairs, this time more gently, she knit her eyebrows together. "Portman?" 

"Yes, he will be staying with us for a while." _Ah_ , _so he_ is  _the new boy,_  she thought to herself. 'For a while' meant you'd be here until you were 18 before being sent to an actual institution.

They walked together through the house and Miss Peregrine guided her to the dining room. This confused Emma; she thought they were headed to the garden. The headmistress turned to face her.

"What's troubling you, Miss Bloom?"

_Ugh_ , she thought. _That's why._

"You must've missed the date– I don't have a session with you today, Miss."

"Your hands have been held in a fist even since before I spoke to you. You only do this when something upsets you."

At the mention of her hands, Emma uncurled them and pursed her lips.

"I'm not setting anything on fire, so I'm fine, aren't I?"

"Miss Bloom, you know perfectly well that I truly care about you all, and I care about _you_ – not just whether or not you set fires. You've made remarkable progress and I am proud of you, but something is troubling you and I want to help in any way I can. Please let me."

Emma sighed. _Goddamit_.

"He looks like Abe, there's nothing anyone can do about it and I'm not gonna light up anything. Better?"

Miss Peregrine sighed as well, approaching her and placing a delicate hand on her shoulder. The blonde looked away and glared at the floor.

"I know it's been very difficult without him." 

Emma closed her eyes.

"But please, keep in mind that Mister Portman isn't him. It's not–"

 

"I _know_ it's not Abe!" she raised her voice suddenly, her hands curling into fists again. "Okay? I  _know_ that and I  _know_ he's not coming back and I  _know_ that I shouldn't set things on fire! It's just my bloody emotions that don't care about what I know. I'm _trying_!" and before Miss Peregrine could reprimand her for her insolence, the girl stormed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it's probably confusing that Emma has an ex named Abe and that Jacob also has grandpa Portman. Let me clarify: they are not the same person. It'll be explained more in detail later in the story, but I just wanted to clear the air in case someone thought underage Emma had been dating a grandpa. I have them as separate people here because I feel Jacob's relationship with his grandpa and Emma dating Abe are both important to their characters (and later on, in the story). TL;DR: Grandpa Portman and Emma's ex Abe are not the same person. I hope that wasn't too weird :P


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Peregrine deals with the situation, like she always does.

  
_Oh dear,_ she thought as Emma ran off,  _this might be worse than I thought._  

Alma took a moment to breathe as she leaned against the wall, collecting herself. She clearly needed to have a serious talk with Miss Bloom about a handful of things, from her clouding emotions to how one needs to handle certain situations delicately, even when upset. 

Miss Peregrine was also a tad worried now, of how her oldest resident would treat the new boy. Mister Portman was already dealing with two starkly different realities, he didn't need to be pulled into another one.

Straightening herself, she set out to the garden. Miss Bloom needed a moment to herself before meeting the new resident, and Alma could at least grant her that.

Opening the door, the headmistress relished in the clean air. The sky was a perfect baby blue and the sun shone just enough to make the weather warm. But the sight that truly invigorated Miss Peregrine was the one of the children. Just then, one of them walked up to her, tipping his hat ceremoniously. 

"Hello, Miss Peregrine. Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Indeed, Mister Somnusson." she smiled. "Say, have you seen the two younger ones? I'm afraid I haven't seen them."

"For our new guest?" he guessed, adjusting his monacle. "Yes, we're all quite excited. Claire and Olive were playing with dolls, last I saw, in their bedroom. Enoch is hiding back in the bushes again and Emma was–" he paused to yawn and the headmistress took the opportunity as a cue to speak.

"Oh I've seen Miss Bloom already and we are to give her a moment to herself, worry not. Thank you very much for letting me know. Could you be so kind to–"

"Gather everyone in the parlor to meet our guest? Yes of course, Miss. Enoch might be a tad stubborn, though. He doesn't seem as excited to meet him."

She raised an eyebrow, "How did you know it was a 'him'?"

Horace shrugged. "Lucky guess." Then he looked around him quickly and gestured Miss Peregrine closer. She obliged, stooping a bit lower as the boy stood on his tiptoes to whisper in her ear. "Is Emma having another temper tantrum?"

"No, it isn't so dire. She's just a tad emotional as of this moment, so we are allowing her some time to collect herself before meeting Mister Portman."

"It isn't one of her episodes, is it?" he asked, not entirely satisifed with her answer.

"Young man, what have I told you about–"

"Yes, yes, not asking about these things due to confidentiality." Horace sighed and then saw Miss Peregrine's glare. " _And_  not to interrupt people while they're speaking. My apologies, m'aam."

"I accept your apology. Thank you, Mister Somnusson."

He smiled at her and tipped his hat again. "I'll be on my way to fetch everyone, then."

As he set off towards the bushes at the edge of the garden, Miss Peregrine headed back inside. No point in gathering everyone if she couldn't find Mister Portman, now. She headed up the stairwell and to her new arrival's room but was stopped short by an unexpected sound.

She turned her head towards her room. 

Slowly, Miss Peregrine approached her own door and cautiously placed her ear closer, alert for any more noise. 

A drawer opening.

She opened the door briskly, her eyes searching the room for the intruder.

"What are you doing, Mister Portman?" she stared at him with an icy glare. "Are you not aware that it is incredibly rude to go through people's personal belongings _without_ permission?"

He shot up from where he had been kneeling as if he had been shocked, his blue eyes widening in fear.

"I– look, just– I have to—" he took a shuddering breath. "Would you believe me if I said I got lost?"

She shook her head.

Jacob sighed, tensing up where he stood. "I needed– I _need_ to make sure you're not a wight."

Alma raised an eyebrow. "And how were you going to make sure of that?"

"Well, wights, they're– they're like normals. Nothing really makes them stand out except–" he paused to gulp, "Except their eyes."

"What is it about their eyes that's different?" The headmistress made sure to keep a calm demeanor as she spoke, hoping that would calm him down as well.

He looked straight at her, his mouth setting into a straight line. "They're white. Completely white, without any pupils."

"I see," she mused, taking a step closer to the boy and stopping when he took a step back in response. "But my eyes are clearly not white. Why do you worry I'm a wight, then?"

"It was easier back in the day. But now– now they can just wear sunglasses! Or contacts, to make it worse! So I—" he huffed, "I was going to see if you had anything hinting to contact lenses here. I'm sorry, but I can't take any chances."

Miss Peregrine took a moment to analyze this information, carefully choosing her next course of action. 

"How could I assure you that I'm not a... wight?" she struggled for a moment to remember the name of the creature he had created.

"I just need to check your eyes. Make sure they're not..." 

"Right, I see. By all means, then." she strutted over to him slowly as Jacob subtly pressed himself up against the wall.

She stopped once they were a foot away from each other and she widened her eyes, waiting.  _I need to gain his trust._  


Slowly, he unpressed himself from the wall and inched closer to where Miss Peregrine stood patiently. After looking into her eyes for a few moments, examining them closely, he stood back and sighed in relief. "You're good."

"Very aware of it, Mister Portman. Now that this matter has been solved, I must lecture you on the very inappropriate and disrespectful manner in which you infringed upon my personal belongings. This is never to happen again, understood?" Her voice turned deadly serious, conveying her message clearly.

Jacob swallowed, looking embarrassed. "Um, yeah, sorry Miss P." Before she could question him on the sudden nickname, he spoke up again. "So um, I'm guessing I'll get to meet everyone now?"

 

The headmistress sighed, straightening herself once more. "Yes indeed, that was why I came to fetch you. Come along, now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We see more characters in this one (finally) and I want to protect Horace so much.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob is not ready to meet the children, but he doesn't think anyone could ever be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a while to upload this one-- it was my grandma's birthday and we went to celebrate out of town, so I didn't have my laptop with me. Uploads might be slower overall from here on out because I only have one more already-written chapter, so bear with me!

 

Okay, so being caught sneaking around Miss Peregrine's room wasn't exactly part of the plan.

Jacob had been on his way to talk to the other kids, to gather clues unsuspiciously and the like, but he hadn't paid enough attention to the house tour and promptly got lost, eventually stumbling across the room by accident. It just seemed convenient.

Either way, everything sorted itself out in the end. No wight in their right mind lets a peculiar look them that closely in the eye unless they're about to feed them to a hollow. And her eyes didn't have any contacts, which meant she was greenlighted by Jacob's terms.

With that out of the way, now he was gripped by a sudden, and frankly uncalled for, feeling of nervousness. He didn't plan on staying very long anyway, but Jacob Portman was not an extroverted person, and the thought of having to meet any large amount of people had his stomach doing somersaults.

Miss P. lead him to what looked like a large sitting room filled with a bunch of kids, ranging from the goggled, dirty-blond boy that seemed to be around his age to a young, olive-skinned girl wearing a tiara who couldn't have been older than 10. 

"Children, this is Mister Jacob Portman. He'll be staying with us for a while. You've met Miss Bruntley already," she said, gesturing to the burly teen that has carried his bags upstairs. He made a gesture akin to a wave and she smiled, waving back. "I'll leave you all to talk to each other for a bit so Mister Portman can get to know you all."

He shot her a glance of fear, internally screaming  _Wait! Don't leave me alone with these people!_  She avoided his gaze, ignoring him completely.

"I'm afraid Mister Nullings and Miss Bloom aren't here at the moment, but you'll meet them eventually."

The first name didn't ring any bells but the latter did.  _Miss_ Bloom? Could it be the girl he had run into earlier?

Before he realized, Miss Peregrine had already left the room, leaving Jacob alone to fend off the wolves. Or in this case, multiple children.

"Hello Mister Jacob!" a small voice squeaked, leading his eyes to a curly-haired little girl. She remined him of a doll with her features and large eyes. "My name's Claire, and I like fairies and books a whole lot!"

"Uh, hi." he replied intelligently, taking the girl's outstretched hand in his, shaking it lightly.

"I'm Olive!" Another voice chimed, but Jacob couldn't place where it had come from. He looked around the room for a bit before the disembodied voice added, "Over here, silly!"

He turned his head sharply towards the voice which, he just realized, had come from above him. The young girl with a tiara that had stood out to him earlier had climbed up an antique lamp that sat in the corner of the room.

Jacob opened his mouth and closed it again like a fish out of water. Bewildered, he stuttered out, "Huh- huh- how did...?"

She– Olive– grinned at him. "Why, I can fly!"

"Olive!" another voice called out. In a flash, Bronwyn was across the room and bringing the little girl down, much to Olive's discontent.

"Awww." she pouted.

"You know what Miss Peregrine says about climbing stuff! You could hurt yourself! What if you fell?" the older girl berated her, still holding her up as if Olive was lighter than air.

The child rolled her eyes. "I _can't_ fall, Bronwyn. I float!"

Seemingly unable to stay mad at her, the brunette chuckled. "Float, eh? Then you ought to be careful or you might sail off without us!"

"Never!" Olive proclaimed, giggling madly.

Warmed by the scene unfolding, Jacob was shocked by a hand suddenly grasping his shoulder.

"Seems Olive took the spotlight, as per usual. We don't mind though, she's got a good heart, yeah?" Releasing Jacob's shoulder, the boy took his hand a bit forcefully and shook it, smirking all the while. "Name's Hugh."

Jacob was still a bit shaken from the sudden break in his stupor, so he stared at the other boy a bit dumbly.

"Ha! Ya look like you've seen a ghost! Did you know I once saw a ghost wearing a bathrobe backflip off a balcony?"

This made Jacob's eyes widen considerably. "Wuh- wait, what?"

The boy adjusted the goggles on his face and nodded, still smirking. "Oh yeah, it was wild I tell ya. Also I hope you don't mind my condition."

He frowned, still very confused. "I– what's your, erm, condition?"

Goggle-boy shrugged nonchalantly. "I have bees living inside of me."

Before Jacob could eveb react to the extremely bizarre sentence, someone else interjected.

"Don't mind him, Jacob. Hugh here is a compulsive liar." The teen recognized him– he had been the boy wearing formal clothes outside on the swings. Upon closer inspection, the blond was wearing a monacle to complement his out-of-place outfit.

"Am not!" Hugh protested, his previous easy-going smile shifting into a pout. Thoroughly offended, he crossed his arms and huffed, walking away.

Fancy-boy rolled his eyes and turned to look at Jacob, tipping his hat. "Hello, Horace Somnusson at your service. I a–" he yawned mid sentence, covering his mouth with a gloved hand. "I apologize for some of my friends' behavior. It must be overwhelming."

"Uh, well, just a little bit." He didn't want to show exactly how nervous he was, or how certain people here already unnerved him. "I actually don't think I can meet anyone else right now or I won't remember anyone's name."

"Ah, yes, very understandable," Horace nodded solemnly, and Jacob took notice of his eyebags, one emphasized by his monacle. "Worry not, there isn't a rush. Fiona doesn't talk much anyway, and Enoch has his... reservations."

"Reservations?"

"About you." Horace clarified.

"I don't understand."

"He keeps to himself a lot, but he's a bit possessive. So when someone new shows up..."

"Oh. Right." He looked around the parlor until his eyes landed on a boy curled up on the sofa– presumedly Enoch– playing around with a couple of action figures. When he lifted his eyes to meet Jacob's gaze, he glowered at him with such intensity that the teen looked away, feeling chills run up and down his spine.

Something came to his mind suddenly, making him turn towards the well-dressed boy again. Before he could ask him about the girl he'd ran into though, Miss Peregrine walked back in, smiling. "Dinner is ready, children! You can continue to acquaint yourself with Mister Portman there."

In a flash, everyone was getting up and hurrying to the dining room, with the exception of the glowering-creepy kid, Bronwyn, Jacob, and a scrawny boy he still didn't place. The four of them trudged at the back of the group, clearly not in a hurry to get there. 

Bronwyn fell into pace next to Jacob, nudging him lightly. Or what he _assumed_  she thought was light; he stumbled and tripped on his own feet in a fit of clumsiness, unceremoniousy landing on his hands and knees with a _thump_.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she continued to apologize profusely as she began to help him up.

"No, no it's– it's fine, don't worry about it." Jacob waved her off as he brushed off his knees, giving Bronwyn what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

He was back on his feet when his eyes landed on the kid with sunken eyes– what was his name, Encho? The boy was smirking at him, seemingly amused by Jacob's fall. When he caught him staring, the kid scoffed and murmured something under his breath, walking off.

Bronwyn snorted and covered her mouth, earning a confused look from Jacob. "What's so funny?" he asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

"Oh, Enoch called you a peasant, that's why I'm laughing."

"A... a peasant?" Isn't he, like, twelve?

"He thinks he's real high and mighty and that we should all 'worship his power'," she placed air quotes with her hands, rolling her eyes lightly. "We're all kind of 'out there', but Enoch's got the biggest head for sure. Takes some time to warm up to him."

"Have you warmed up to him yet?"

"Not yet, but Victor has."

Before he could ask, Bronwyn turned to the scrawny boy that had been walking along with them. Jacob had even forgotten he was there; the boy hadn't said a word since he met him. "Victor, this is Jacob. Jacob, this is Victor, my brother." 

His eyes widened a little. He honestly could never have imagined the two of them being related; he was lanky, dark haired and pale while she had a bulkier shape, lighter hair and slightly darker skin.

The boy, Victor, shyly lifted his hand. "Hello." he said it so quietly Jacob almost didn't hear him. He gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement and a "Hey" in return before they finally reached what he guessed was the dining room.

"Oh good, I'm starving!" Bronwyn exclaimed. Jacob wondered why she hadn't run ahead with everyone else if she was so hungry but pushed the thought aside.

Everyone was sitting around the rather large dining table, filling the air with conversation. Standing in the doorway, frozen, he stared at all of the people he'd met today and realized he'd never felt so out of place.

 

He didn't belong here.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's dinner time, and Millard doesn't really know what's happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm SO SORRY for my slow updates! I'm overall busy and can only write when I'm in writing mood. Additionally, I'm now gonna make it my goal to have each chapter be around 1500 words-ish, so each chapter from now on should be more consistent.

 

Millard held his pen in his hand, clicking it occasionally as he observed his friends get along rambuctiously. He had of course wanted to stay in the library to continue researching, but knew well that if there was a meal, he'd have no way of escaping it. At least Miss Peregrine allowed him to bring his notebook and pen.

Swiftly checking his watch, where it read 4:54, Millard decided he had enough time to speak to someone. On his left, he looked at the compulsive liar Hugh next to a quiet Fiona as he rambled on about some great adventure his friend Henry and him had gone on. Deciding that wasn't a viable choice, he turned to notice that Emma hadn't arrived yet, leaving one empty seat to his right. Check the clock. 4:55. She should pick up her pace.

Next to the empty chair was Horace, resting his head against his hand. He looked absolutely exhausted, his eyes subtly droopping as he struggled to keep them open. Many times, Millard had tried to explain to Horace why he had to try and maintain a regular sleeping schedule, but it had resulted futile. He shook his head. It was as if he was the only one here who was concerned about his own health. At least Enoch seemed to be keeping Horace awake, poking him with a fork whenever he started to doze off.

"Will you stop that?!" the blond snapped the third time Enoch poked him on the cheek.

"No."

"You're insufferable."

Enoch simply poked him again in response, Horace sighing in exasperation.

Millard checked the time. 4:57. Accepting that Emma would certainly be late by this point, he chose to spend his remaining time observing the new resident. The boy sat directly across Emma's seat, placed between Bronwyn and Olive. He was looking nervously around him, biting his nails, and Millard resisted the urge to slap his hand from his mouth. Nail biting was an unsanitary habit and he felt incredibly uncomfortable at the idea of that happening near him. The amount of diseases that could be contracted from it were enormous.

Speaking of, he checked his watch one more time. 4:59, and just as the digits reset to read 5:00, Miss Peregrine walked in with two large platters, Emma following close behind as she hurriedly slid into her seat. He raised an eyebrow at her, mentally asking _Where were you?_   to which she just rolled her eyes and subtly pointed to the headmistress. _Wanted to talk,_  she mouthed.

Shrugging it off, Millard rolled up his right sleeve, pressing his index and middle finger to his wrist. Checking his pulse, he jotted down the rate of it below the rest of his check-ups today. As he wrote and compared his results, Miss Peregrine set the platters on the table gently, standing at the head of the table. "Hello children. I take it you've all met Mister Portman by now."

Nods and sounds of agreement around the table.

"I'm sure you'll all make him feel very welcome, is that right?"

Nods and sounds of agreement again.

"Now then, let's eat!"

The aura of the room quickly became rambuctious as everyone dug in, heaving large portions of food onto their plates. Millard paid no attention to the meal, simply continuing with his check up. After 5 more minutes had passed, Emma nudged him with her elbow, glaring at the food and then at him.

"I'm not done--" he began, but Emma simply served him a massive spoonful of mashed potatoes and turned back to her own plate.

Rolling his eyes, Millard served himself some steamed carrots and a piece of chicken as well, making sure that his meal's nutrients would be balanced. He glanced in front of him to see Bronwyn gently urging Victor to eat his food as he simply picked on a chunk of bread, tearing it into small pieces. On the opposite end of that spectrum, Olive kept trying to steal food from Claire's plate despite there being plenty more on the serving platters and on her own plate. Everytime Claire caught her she'd frown and slap the girl's hand away as Olive giggled madly. Nail-biter hunched in on himself and looked around the table anxiously, barely paying attention to his meal.

Millard turned back to Emma to ask her what she thought of the new arrival, but paused when he saw her expression. She was staring fixatedly at nothing in particular and she alternated from looking forlorn to clenching her fork so hard Millard thought it'd snap right in half. He figured her mildly explosive mood had to be about whatever she and Miss Peregrine had talked about, though he wasn't sure what it was. He had to be delicate about the situation so she wouldn't be too upset at him.

"Why do you look like you're about to go on a murder spree with your fork?"

Emma flinched slightly when he spoke up and then glared at him, unamused. " _Tactful_. And the only person I'm gonna be murdering is _you_ for being so god damn nosy."

"I am a man of curiosity," he retaliated, "And I'm curious to what it is exactly that's making you look like the next promotional poster for _Sinister_."

"You're dreadful!" she whisper-shouted, kicking him under the table. "Who died and named you Sherlock bloody Holmes?"

"Arthur Conan Doyle, in the 1930's." he replied without missing a beat.

"... Why-- no, wait,  _how_ do you even know that?" she asked, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Millard frowned slightly. "Well, it's not like I know the exact _day_ \--"

She scoffed and muttered under her breath. "Wikipedia."

" _Sinister_." he retorted.

Before they could continue to banter, Miss Peregrine told everyone to finish up quickly and reminded Enoch that he was on dishwashing duty tonight. He groaned dramatically and threw his head back while Horace snickered, picking up his fork and jabbing it playfully into Enoch's stomach. Millard could hear him whisper "Sweet revenge!" as the boy hunched in on himself as a reflex.

"Ow! What the hell?" he snapped, glaring at a very amused Horace.

"Mister O'Connor, language!" the headmistress scolded.

"But--!"

"Another word and I'll give you dishwashing duty for the rest of the week." she threatened.

Enoch huffed, clearly aggravated, and slouched in his chair, crossing his arms and refusing to look at Horace. Millard noted his expression and sighed in resignation, knowing what was coming. He dejectedly whispered, "In three, two..."

"This is unacceptable!" the boy snapped. _There we go._

"Mister O'Connor." Miss Peregrine warned, but Enoch slowly rose from his chair, ignoring the headmistress.

"You-- NONE of you appreciate me how you should! You ungrateful, whiny little--"

"Mister O'Connor--"

"Is it because of _him_?" he turned and pointed to the new boy, who's eyes widened like plates when he realized Enoch was talking about him. "He's a nothing, he can't do anything, not compared to ME--!"

" _Mister O'Connor_."

As if shaken awake from his stupor, Enoch froze and then turned to look at Miss Peregrine. Her face was impassive and her hands were folded, but the calm demeanor was unsettling in the quiet that suddenly filled the room. "Please take a seat." she spoke slowly.

Millard turned to look at Emma to gauge her reaction to all of this, but her attention was set across the table where the new boy sat. Despite not doing anything out of the ordinary, Emma scrutinized him, as if looking for something.

_Interesting_.

Just as he noted that observation, Enoch seemed to have made up his mind and slowly sat down again, glowering. Miss Peregrine broke the silence by clapping her hands together. "Alright children, time to clean up and get ready for bed."

Claire and Olive whined and began trying to stall, as per usual. "But Miss, the display--!"

"No buts," the headmistress tutted, pulling out her pocketwatch. "It is six minutes past your bedtime already. Miss Bruntley, Miss Bloom, please assist the children. Mister O'Connor _and_ Mister Somnusson, dishwashing duty—"

"Wait, what?" Horace interrupted.

"Oh Miss Peregrine, _please_?" Olive pleaded again. "We want Jacob to see the display too! He'd love it! Don't you want to see it, Jake?"

Jacob seemed uncomfortable being put in the spotlight. "Uh, well I mean," he glanced around him quickly, "I— I don't really know what the display _is,_ exactly—"

Olive ran to stand next to Miss Peregrine in a flash, dropping to her knees. "Pretty pretty _please_ , Miss, just this once!" She begged, concluding with her signature puppy face.

Millard turned to Emma again, still staring at Jacob. He elbowed her gently and she snapped her head up, turning to him with a puzzled expression.

"Alright, be honest: what is it with you? You've been acting strange all night."

She opened and closed her mouth, taken aback by his bluntness. "I— Nothing, I'm fine.”

"Oh yeah, I'm sure." he monotoned, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Emma frowned at him. "I _said_ I'm bloody fine, Millard." She growled.

Before he could pry anymore, however, Miss Peregrine spoke up again.

"Alright, alright, once everyone is ready for bed we can watch the display." A few of them cheered but the headmistress quickly spoke over them, "This is a _one_ time occurrence for our guest and we will  _not_ make a habit of it. It is very important for all of you to rest and I do not wish for you to negatively alter your sleeping schedules, understood?"

Murmurs of agreement came from all of the children and suddenly they were all rushing to leave the dining room, with the exception of Enoch and Horace gathering all of the dishes. Millard didn't miss Emma storming out, still fuming. She almost toppled Jacob in her haste to leave, and he hurriedly stepped back to avoid being trampled by her. As Millard observed the boy, who still hadn't noticed him, he got an idea. He knew Miss Peregrine wouldn't tell him anything if he asked, but if Emma refused to tell him why she was so upset, he would just have to find out himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll eventually start to reveal what mental disorder everyone has, but I want to make it gradual. Feel free to guess in the comments!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob is confused, but what else is new?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll apologize for my sinfully late update in the end notes, but here I'm just apologizing for the chapter being slightly shorter than normal, and the fact that it's not super plot heavy. Lots of Millard though!

Jacob had never been more confused in his entire life.

What was the display? What was the deal with that Enoch kid? Why was this kid he'd never seen before walking him to his room?

He had just avoided a near death experience of being trampled before someone lightly tapped on his shoulder. Jacob jumped, turning around in an instant before he saw a boy with a face mask standing before him, the type that cover your nose and mouth at the hospital. He made a motion as if tipping his hat to Jacob and smiled. Offering to take him to his room (for some reason), he agreed out of sheer awkwardness and here he was, walking down the hallway with a stranger. Looking up at the other boy, Jacob wondered how he had missed him with that height. He thinks he remembers Miss Peregrine mentioning there was a kid he hadn't met, but it was hazy in his memory.

They stopped at Jacob's door, with him heaving a mental sigh of relief. He really hadn't been in the mood for uncomfortable small talk.

Jacob nervously glanced at the window next to him in an effort to avoid eyesight and suddenly felt his blood going cold. The sun had set, leaving only murky darkness that looked even more ominous around the looming forest. The darkness left an uneasy feeling in Jacob. Hollows hide better in the dark.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder and he jumped back so violently he accidentally slammed himself against the door. He lightly hissed in pain and turned to look up at the culprit.

The tall boy looked at Jacob with mild concern on his face, but he also looked curious. "... I didn't mean to frighten you, but you seemed lost for a minute there."

"Couldn't you have snapped your fingers in front of my face or something?" he retorted.

Now the other boy was straight up frowning, at least from what he could tell, drawing his still hovering hand back. "I did."

"Huh?" Now Jacob looked at him straight in the eyes.

The boy raised an eyebrow. "I went like _this_ ," he snapped his fingers a couple of times right in front of his face before withdrawing it again, "For almost half a minute. You just blanked out completely. Thought you went brain dead right in the middle of our conversation."

Now it was Jacob's turn to frown. "Con... conversation? What are you talking about?" Was this guy messing with him?

"You _really_  don't remember?" Now his eyebrows shot up, though he wasn't sure if it was from incredulity or shock.

Jacob couldn't help but scoff. "Honestly? I don't remember any of that happening, I was just thinking about hollowghasts."

"... Hollowghasts?"

_Ah, crap._

"Uh- um, yeah, I guess. Hollows for short." he stumbled, twisting his jacket string and frowning slightly.

"What are they, exactly?" he pried, leaning back slightly as if to get a better look at him. Like a specimen.

"You wouldn't believe me." 

"Probably not. It's not like we're in very believable situations. Look at this place!" he suddenly gestured grandly at the still silent hallway. Before Jacob could wonder why no one was upstairs despite Miss Peregrine's orders, the boy continued. "Would you feel better if I told you what I had?"

"Had?"

He shrugged. "Well, by technicalities it's what I _have_. Misdiagnosed condition you see. I'm a bit of an anomaly."

Well if he hadn't picqued the teen's interest before, he certainly had now. He nodded for him to continue.

"I have the tendency to get ill often. _Severely_ ill. Darier's Disease, Melanoma, you name it."

"Wait I- I don't get it, why would they put you--well,  _here,_  if what you have is more, y'know, hospital-worthy?"

"Same reason most anyone's here-- people don't believe me." he said this almost non-chalantly, his eyes were unreadable. "They say I've got Hypochondria, that I can't tell the difference between a cough and imminent death. _Clearly_ genius of them to leave a teenager to his own devices when he's severely ill." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes.

There was a beat if silence before Jacob spurted, "Well that's kinda depressing." _Wow, reeeaaal smooth and delicate,_ he scolded himself mentally _._  


The other boy shrugged and his eyes crinkled as if he were smiling. "Of course it's depressing. Look at this place!" he repeated in a light tone, as if it amused him.

Against his will, Jacob chuckled slightly. Well, more accurately, he just huffed out of his nose louder than usual and smiled.

Suddenly, the boy changed subjects. "So, you seeing anyone?"

Jacob drew his eyebrows together. Where was this guy heading? "Seeing? I mean... I see _you_." he joked lamely.

He laughed, probably out of pity, at Jacob's attempt of humor. "Unbelievable. No, no, I meant as in _dating._  You know, romantically."

He wasn't sure what other type of dating there was outside of romantic, but he didn't dwell on it. "Uh, no?"

The boy sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "Yeah, that's probably for the best. If you think long distance relationships are hard, here it's..." he whistled. "Not good."

Jacob tipped his head to the side, still unsure of where this was heading. Or, more importantly, where this was coming _from_. "You sound like you talk from personal experience." he noted.

Shaking his head, the boy sighed again. "Not exactly, it was... well, it happened to someone else." His eyes lightened up then, as if he suddenly remembered something. "But anyway, that's all in the past. I actually had something I wanted to ask you about."

"Asides from the oddly invasive dating question?" 

At this the boy actually laughed, his eyes squinting as he did. " _Yes_ , aside from that. Have you met Emma?"

Emma... he didn't remember any of the kids having that name.

"Um, n- no, I don't... think so?" he was unsure, for some reason.

"Are you certain? Yae high, blonde hair, probably looks like she wants to murder someone all of the time?"

Then it clicked: the girl in the hallway! The one that glared at him and almost trampled him; she fit all of the above.

"Oh yeah! I ran into her earlier. Twice, actually. Um, I think she hates me though. You know why?"

"That's kind of what I'm trying to figure out." his face fell, or what Jacob could see of it. "I was hoping you'd know what's upsetting her. I'm worried."

"Are you two... well..." he couldn't seem to finish the question, but the other boy didn't let him anyway.

"Oh god no. I mean, she's probably one of my greatest friends who happens to be a girl, but _no_."

"Oh. Okay." Jacob said meekly.

He ran a hand through his pale brown hair, sighing for the umpteenth time. "Well, I should let you get ready for the display then. It's getting late."

Jacob agreed, shivering slightly as he remembered that it was dark out.

The other boy began to walk away but paused with his hand on the knob of a door, turning to look at Jacob.

"... You have no idea what my name is, do you?"

_Crap, he noticed!_

He tried to give him an awkward half-smile and nodded, his face turning red.

"It's alright, people don't usually notice me." Jacob couldn't see his eyes but his voice sounded... resigned. "Millard Nullings, at your service." Millard gave him another imaginary-hat tip and a smile before going into his room.

  
_Now that_ , Jacob thought, _was an experience_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY OKAY I KNOW THIS TOOK FOREVER BUT HEAR ME OUT
> 
> I'm already a slow writer but then a bunch of things happened at once that got in the way of the new chapter, including final projects and exams, stuff from my work, my computer dying (still getting fixed, I'm writing this on my sister's Mac), and a huge chunk of the new chapter deleting itself! Yaaaay.
> 
> That last one especially sapped out my inspiration because I hate re-writing from scratch, but by some miracle of chance I managed to restore it and didn't have to re-write anything.
> 
> Like I've said, I'm a very slow writer overall, and now that I'm back from winter break I'm gonna be like three times busier than usual, but I'm not giving up on this fic! I'll still upload, even if it takes a while, and in turn I'll try to make each chapter around 1.5k words each (this one fell at 1254 words give or take) and more thought out. Feel free to complain about my uploading schedule in the comments, or tell me what you think of the story so far!


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